“Games are a waste of time.” As the demographics of gaming's audience changes, this is heard less often. You can remember though, when gamers were trying to defend their hobby as something more than an opaquely addictive fantasy turning children into zombie-eyed shut-ins. I always found the common counter-arguments to accusations of games being a waste of time insufficient. Yes, they were known to improve hand-eye coordination, but that was barely touching the surface and only applied to some genres. I think more people are realizing that playing almost any game is more engaging of the mind than watching almost anything on TV. I want to talk about what gamers have known for years about the appeal of all games. Gamers really know games have always been about problem-solving.

We buy a bunch of problems. And then we solve them. I got to thinking about this while reading one researcher's speech to other researchers. He was trying to explain what determined who did great work, that is to say, who solved the problems? The difference between these real-world problems and game problems are, of course, that real solutions have real consequences and that solving real problems requires real risk. However, games (electronic or not) have always been a training space for the exercise of real skills. And the value of games can't be measured without taking into account how they encourage us to learn how to solve problems.

Games ask us to try and try again and we take them up on their offer because for every problem presented, a solution is implicitly promised to exist. We have all the tools available. The solution may involve a change in strategy or a greater level of skill or a combination of the two, but knowing there is a solution out there, somewhere to be found, unleashes great effort and problem-solving skills. As gamers, we learn how to carefully identify the objective and any obstacles. We learn the tools available to us. We learn how to plan. We learn how to balance persistence with stepping back to reevaluate the problem for better approaches. We learn to pay close attention for signs of progress. We learn from our past accomplishments (and this extends beyond any single game). We learn how to make finely-tuned adjustments. For example, we may see that we have to change our timing to turn a fall into a successful leap. And depending on their intended difficulty, games spell these things out more or less obviously.

Games are indisputably intelligently designed worlds. The promise of problems and solutions is both the appeal of games and pushes us to spend so much time and effort on them. The role of narrative in games seems to be to mask that these unreal problems lack risk and consequences. When working effectively, we get a thrill when presented with a problem. At first glance, it looks impossible, but we know that it too will be conquered. We get to have a dual-emotional relationship with every time the stakes are raised. We get to feel the risk, but know there is none. Anything that threatens us also ultimately points to our empowerment.

Is it a waste of time to encourage this attitude? Is it transferrable to the real world or will we feel discouraged when we can't be assured about the existence of the right tools and a solution and the risks are real? I don't know, but this is how games need to be judged. To not understand what is happening behind the eyes of a gamer is to have no idea what games really mean.